Mystic

Mystic believes in all sorts of things. He collects horseshoes, burns incense, and is extremely careful around mirrors, for example.
He also believes in science, just a different kind of science than his wife.
While she is claws on, always covered in oil and tinkering with gears, he analyzes the sky and looks for omens in the wind. Learnings reminiscent of his brief time in the Arcane Flight.

Though he’d never admit it, Mystic clings to magic as a way to cope with the harsh reality of the world.
As a hatchling, he was nearly sent to the Arcanist to join the bloody fight for Dominance, but Mystic was too soft for war.
And a coward, to boot.
He fled his parents and siblings in the Starfall Isles and found refuge in the Wind Flight.

He went from a nameless hatchling, destined to meet a bloody end, to Mystic.
Sure, most dragons saw him as the Clan’s freak, but he’d found belief in the unknown and the love of his life in the Wind Flight.

She knew nothing of his past and was critical of his habits because of it.
If she knew, maybe things would be different….
But no, some things were better left to the wind.
Mystic’s eyes are the only thing that give away who he once was.